Chapter 207 Book 2 CHPT 39: Game Over

Chapter 207 Book 2 CHPT 39: Game Over
VALENTINO'S POV

The moment Dante arrived, I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding.

Finally.

I had instructed Sky to contact Dante if anything went wrong. Dante was still on vacation with his family in Lugano, Switzerland, but with the jet, it took just thirty minutes to reach Milan.

Now he was here.

I smirked at Bianca, my gaze cold and sharp.

“Game over, Bianca.”

“Game over???” Her brows shot up, her lips curling into a cruel, mocking smile.

“Who says it’s over??? Because your capo is here? You think one man is enough to handle the chaos on the ground?”

She chuckled, like I was nothing more than a joke to her.

“Have you forgotten my hundreds of Bloodhound killer machines are still here?” She shot back, though the fear in her voice was obvious.

“One word from me, and your men are gone.”

“Who says I’m here alone???” Dante stepped forward, his boots crunching through the snow like thunder.

He fired a single bullet into the air. Instantly, men in black appeared from every shadow, surrounding the entire area.

Their guns raised, aiming precisely behind every Bloodhound’s head.

The Ruger Russian mafia dogs were here.

I had recently contacted my father and Vincenzo about the recent killings in Italy.

They had refused to intervene, saying it wasn’t their business, that the Italians should handle it. But if danger ever found me, they would always answer the call.

I had told Dante to summon them if we ever ran into unexpected threats.

Bianca’s eyes twisted in shock and fear, her composure cracking.

“Impossible!” she hissed. “I made sure the remaining Wolves were drugged by Nikita! How could you gather this many men in mere minutes?”

“Surprised???” I scoffed, my lips curling with contempt.

“You think I’d chase the Bloodhounds without proper backup? You underestimate me, Bianca.”

The flicker of disappointment and fear in her eyes delighted me.

Dante moved behind her, his presence quiet but menacing. His gun rested lightly against her neck, just enough to make her flinch.

“What do you think now, mia signora (my lady)?” Dante’s voice was calm, almost taunting.

“Game over, or not?”

“The fight hasn’t even started,” she spat, her eyes blazing with venom. “It’s not your place to decide the winner.”

“Cut the crap,” Dante growled, tightening his grip and cocking the gun.

“Drop that gun.”

Her hand shook violently as she glanced at her captured men, their fear mirrored in her own.

The anger burning in her eyes was sharp despite how hard she tried to hide it.

“Valentino,” she hissed, her teeth clenched.

“Don’t think you’ve won. I still have your life in my hands. The moment I pull this trigger, it’s over for you.”

“Then that makes the two of us,” I shot back, my eyes locked on hers, fire burning in every line of my face.

“I am nothing but a walking dead man,” she continued.

“If I die now, I’ll have no regrets. In as much as I can take your life with me… allora (then) I can die without regret.”

Dante scoffed beside her. “SOGNA (dream on)!”

Before I could say anything, Bianca pulled the trigger.

I watched in horror as the bullet tore through the air straight toward me, fast and merciless, and for the first time in years, fear settled deep in my chest, heavy and unfamiliar, locking my body in place for a split second as I realized I would not be able to move in time.

Then suddenly, a cold hand grabbed me and dragged me down.

Rocco.

I hit the ground hard, the impact knocking the air out of my lungs as a sharp ringing filled my ears, drowning out everything else for a moment.

The world went quiet in a strange, unreal way, like time itself had paused just to show me what came next.

When I forced my eyes open, I saw him.

Rocco… standing right in front of me.

And then, slowly, he dropped to his knees.

My heart stopped.

He took the bullet for me.

“Rocco…” My voice came out hoarse, barely sounding like mine as I pushed myself up and rushed to him, catching his body before it could fully collapse.

My hands pressed against his chest, trying to hold him together, but the blood was already spreading fast, soaking through his shirt and coating my fingers, warm and thick.

“Why?” I demanded, my voice cracking under the weight of everything.

“Perché (why)? Why betray me… and then do this?”

He coughed, and blood spilled from the corner of his lips, his body trembling weakly in my arms, yet somehow he still managed to smile, faint and tired, like a man who had already accepted his end.

“I know… I won’t survive today,” he said slowly, his voice coming out in little gasps, each word dragging through pain.

“So why waste my life… when I can use it to save yours, Don?”

My chest tightened painfully as his hand gripped my shirt, weak but desperate.

“I know I’m not worthy to stand by your side anymore… Don,” he continued, his breathing growing shallow.

“So let me redeem myself like this… lascia che io muoia con onore (let me die with honor).”

His eyes softened then, losing that spark and life I had seen in him for the past ten years, and for a brief moment, I saw the man I once trusted.

“My Lord… I’m sorry.”

The words hit me harder than any bullet ever could.

My throat closed, words failing me completely.

“Rocco…” I tried, but there was nothing left to say that could undo what had already been done.

His grip loosened slowly, then his head tilted back lifelessly.

And just like that, he was gone.